“Well, it worked, so why are you so angry?”
I take a breath to calm my voice. “I’m not angry.”
“Neither am I.”
“Good.”
Why does it infuriate me so when he tries to get in the last word?
“Kearan.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t be familiar with me again. It’s captain to you or nothing at all.”
I leave lest he try to get the better of me again.
But he still manages, “Aye-aye, Captain,” before I’m out of earshot.
IN THE MORNING, IT is not a kitchen girl but Roslyn who delivers my breakfast.
“What are you up to?”
“Why do I have to be up to something? Can’t I just want to do something nice for my captain?” she asks.
She sets the tray down on my desk and steps back. I keep my eyes on her as I crack one of the hard-boiled eggs. Beside them are strips of bacon and a mango cut into squares. Roslyn says not a word until I’m halfway through my meal.
“You know, Captain,” she says a little too innocently. “I’ve just thought of something. Perhaps we should make the most of our time together.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I place my full attention on the food before me.
She is undeterred. “I once asked Alosa who had the highest death count in the keep. I thought it might be her, but did you know it’s actually you?”
I take a long pull from my glass of water.
“So I’m thinking, who better to learn from than you? Alosa has explained to me many times that I can’t grow up to be a siren like her. Ugh. If I have to hear the words You have to be born a siren one more time …” She trails off. “Anyway, all this is to say I’ve decided I’m an aspiring assassin instead.”
I nearly choke on my water.
Did she really just say the words aspiring assassin?
“How many people have you killed?” she asks. “No, wait. First tell me how old you were the first time you killed someone. Then tell me how many.”
I cough before turning to her. Someone has run a brush through her yellow hair and pulled it back out of her face. She’s clean and bright eyed. Her dagger is sheathed at her waist.
“You think you ought to be rewarded for poor behavior?” I ask.
“Sorinda, I’m doing you a favor. You’ll have fewer people to kill if you teach me. We can share the work!”
“Your father would murder me.”
“That’s the best part! He’ll never know because he’s not here. And he could never murder you because you’re a professional murderer.”
“Roslyn.”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Leave my room. Now.”
“But—”
“Go.”
“Fine.” She stomps her feet as loudly as possible and slams the door behind her.
If dealing with Roslyn is the worst of the trouble I have to handle on the way to the Seventeen Isles, I’ll take that punishment happily.
Such a futile wish.
When I step out onto the main deck, there’s not a breeze to stir my hair.
“Bring out the sweeps!” Dimella shouts to the crew. She yells out the names of the first sailors to take turns at the oars.
No wind is bad for morale. Rowing isn’t a task anyone enjoys, and I see many downcast faces. Enwen runs up top with a pair of gloves on.
He sees me and says, “It’s bad luck to be missing the wind so early in a voyage, Captain.”
“Don’t you dare let superstitious rumors spread on this ship, Enwen.”
“Not a rumor if it’s true.”
“Less talking from you and more rowing.”
He harrumphs as he helps the others remove the boards hiding a little inlet on the main deck. Below are benches and openings in the ship for the sweeps.
They take their positions, spread out over eight oars, four on each side.
“Heave!” Dimella calls in time, signaling the crew when to stroke. “Heave!”
Many grunt with each pull of the heavy oars, and I note that all the rowers are staring at me or Dimella. Where else do they have to look except right in front of them?
Dimella has a purpose, calling out the tempo of the rowing, but I am useless. There’s nothing I can do save stand over everyone and watch, yet there’s nothing worse than being the one laboring while someone near you isn’t.
I would hate me if I were down there, watching myself just standing around.
I should have asked to be put in the first rotation, but it’s too late for that now. I can’t switch with someone; it’ll be seen as a sign of favoritism, surely.
I rack my brain for ways to help the situation. I can’t talk to Dimella, as she’s keeping time for the crew. Kearan’s gaze is boring into me from the aftercastle, but I refuse to turn and acknowledge him. Maybe I should hide in my cabin? But the rowers will see me enter, think I’m being lazy. Or that I’ve gone back to bed. Sleeping while they’re working.
The internal struggle is making me irritable.
What would Alosa do? The Ava-lee doesn’t have sweeps. We all suffered together when there was no wind.
This is enough to give me a headache. I never had to worry about such things when part of Alosa’s crew. I was free to hide where I wished, do what I wished when I was off duty. But as the captain, I’m always on duty. I’m always expected to keep up appearances for the crew.
A figure comes up top, carrying a lute in one hand.
It’s Taydyn. He’s one of my able-bodied sailors, and he keeps to himself most of the time. But today he takes a seat among the rowers, pulls the lute into his lap, and starts to play. The introduction is upbeat as he strums, and his fingers move with the ease of a man who’s played the instrument a long time. It makes me miss Haeli. She was a rigger on the Ava-lee who joined the stars during our adventures trying to secure the siren treasure. She, too, was gifted with playing.
Soon, Taydyn begins to sing in a rich voice:
When the wind is dead and the seas are dull, ’Tis my song what keeps me goin’
When the drink’s dried up and the food’s all gone,
’Tis my song what keeps me goin’
The music turns slower, more morose before the next verse starts.
When the captain’s dead and the crew’s all bone,
’Tis my song what keeps me goin’
When my lute’s gone flat and I’m all alone, ’Tis my voice what keeps me goin’
He stops strumming his lute, his voice the only sound to be heard as he sings the last verse.
When the dark arrives and is out for me, ’Tis my song what rests at sea
It’s no shanty I’ve heard before, and I think it a little dark, but those rowing seem to appreciate it. Taydyn plays it again, and this time, some of the rowers join in. When everyone has the words memorized, he moves on to another song and another, keeping the rowers company.
More importantly, Taydyn has taken the attention off me, which I desperately needed. I can think more calmly now. I make a mental note to thank the man later for sharing his talents and keeping the rowers in good spirits.
I turn to look up at the aftercastle, where the helmsman is tapping his foot to the music. I sigh as I force my muscles to relax from the tension of being put on display. Last night, I let Kearan get under my skin. I wasn’t prepared for him to show up during my silent snooping around the ship, and I’m still unsettled from the encounter. Which I hate. I need to do something about it.